The Borg Files
by khrom
Summary: Set before "Endgame" but after the departure of Neelix. Voyager encounters an alien whose species had freely surrendered to the Borg.  Tension and paranoia overwhelms the crew as they learn more and more about the alien. Slight C/7.
1. Distress Call

* Disclaimer. I don't own Star Trek. Although how cool would that be? This is just something I do for fun and not for money. Okay now that's out of the way, on to the nerdy stuff. *

Janeway sipped her cup of coffee while staring at the stars as they whizzed by at warp speed. It was nearly 0800. Before she could officially start her duty shift, she remained calm and quiet in preparation for the day. The hot coffee filled her veins with satisfaction. She became more alert and focused. After seven years in the delta quadrant, her morning cup was usually accompanied by a feeling of euphoria.

A communication notification chimed just before Tuvok's voice permeated her ready room, "Captain to the bridge." Without a moments hesitation, she cracked a brief smile and walked toward the bridge with her delicious coffee still in hand.

"Report."

Tuvok's console tones clicked with a noticeable Vulcan efficiency while he delivered his report as requested. "We are being hailed by an unknown vessel in this sector. It is a small vessel, approximately 12 meters in length, likely a shuttlecraft from a larger ship. Our sensors cannot penetrate its hull."

Tom Paris offered the Captain information provided by the helm. "That ship is adrift, it doesn't look like it's powered at the moment."

It never took much of a mystery to pique Janeway's curiosity. She debated shortly on her next course of action, but after so long as her friend and shipmate, Tuvok had already prepared to answer the hail. "All stop. On screen."

On the large bridge monitor appeared a small and naked, humanoid alien. Its skin was grey in pigment, with large oval eyes completely black. It appeared emaciated or ill with what seemed to be plasma burns on its face and neck. Strange technology protruded outward from the alien's rather large head and emitted pulses of light as if they were damaged.

Janeway began her usual greeting, though with a feeling of empathy toward the alien.

"I am Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager responding to your distress call. Are you in need of assistance?"

"Kathryn Janeway. Voyager. Need assistance." The naked alien appeared to have lost consciousness, falling over to reveal the ships internal condition. The internal structure looked very badly damaged, perhaps as a result of combat. Uncontrolled fires alongside damaged bulkheads quickly appeared and disappeared behind the falling alien. The transmission was abruptly cut off, shortly after the alien fell.

"Janeway to transport room, beam the alien to Sickbay."

"Acknowledged."

Seven of Nine had been standing in front of the sensor console behind the first officer. "Captain."

"What is it Seven?"

"I recognize this species. Species 3527, the Okari. They were one of only two species that had willingly given themselves to the Borg. Captain it is extremely unlikely to encounter an Okari severed from the collective."

Ensign Kim had reached a conclusion from his sensor readings almost immediately after the transmission was cut off. "Captain I was just able to scan beyond the hull after the alien lost consciousness. He's the only one aboard. I couldn't see anything that looked like a propulsion system. But what ever was blocking our sensors is blocking them again."

Tuvok also had more important readings to offer the Captain. "I am detecting residual ionized radiation emanating from all sides of the craft."

"Raise shields." She directed her attention at the Operations officer as she walked around her bridge to issue more orders. "Ensign, lock on a tractor beam to the alien vessel and tractor it in to Shuttle Bay 2. Erect a level five force field around the Shuttle Bay just to be safe."

"Aye, Captain."

"Commander, you have the bridge. Tuvok, Seven."

The three entered the turbo-lift. Janeway turned toward Seven when the turbolift doors automatically closed. "Deck 5." She turned toward Seven with a curious eye. Although Seven predicted her next question, she had learned from the Doctor that volunteering information without being asked was something that annoyed humans, despite the Doctor doing so, religiously. "Seven, what more can you tell me about the Okari?"

"They evolved on a K class planet in a binary star system located within the beta quadrant. They have superior mathematical and analytical capability, moderately telepathic and limited physical prowess. They designed themselves to be the most efficient data processing drones and nothing more."

"But why would they freely give themselves to the Borg?"

"Their motive was not relevant. However I believe it was because they had an affinity for cybernetic life forms as they themselves had also created technology incorporating a vast consciousness accessible by anyone with a synaptic processor."

She took a moment to visualize such a species. It fascinated her and, at the same time left her in profound bewilderment. "They created their own collective?"

"Correct."

"Were there any Okari that didn't join the Borg?"

"None of which I am aware. The Okari left their system and traveled a vast distance to integrate themselves with the Borg."

"It would seem they had reached a consensus." Tuvok explained.

Seven lifted her eye at the Vulcan. "Perhaps."

Janeway thought it to be completely irrational; who would seek out the Borg? Her bias remained silent, as she was reminded of the Binars from the alpha quadrant. They operated as two minds working together, finishing each others' sentences, doubling their work capacity, and all interfaced with one enormous computer. She considered the Binars to be a deeply fascinating culture, but so far it seemed the two species were completely different in their way of thinking. The only thing the Captain could focus on at this point was to determine whether the Okari were as benign as the Binars or as malevolent as the Borg.

The three exited the turbolift and walked toward Sickbay. Inside the Doctor had already scanned the alien whom was still was lying unconscious in the biobed and began downloading this new medical data into the ships computer with his tricorder.

Janeway gazed at the stark-looking features of this tiny humanoid creature. He couldn't have been more than a hundred centimeters tall. He gave Janeway a feeling of familiarity by his appearance. Something about him made Janeway uncertain about his intentions. "Doctor, report."

"This little grey fellow has a nasty concussion, but his neural network appears to be regenerating. Other than that, he seems to be in perfect health."

"How soon can you wake him?"

"In no less than 30 minutes it will be safe to revive him. I'm still learning more about his physiology. He is quite an interesting one. His DNA has nanomarkers identifying each chromosome and sending that information outward from his body using a specific subspace frequency. If I didn't know better, I'd say this was Borg technology."

Seven of Nine broke in with an explanation. "The Borg assimilated that technology approximately 180 years ago with the addition of this species distinction. They fashioned it for processor clustering."

The Doctor resumes his report. "I've also found something interesting about his brain."

But again, Seven of Nine interrupted him. "Its brain contains five frontal lobes each with its own synaptic processor to function as a complete lattice within its cerebral cortex. It allows the creature to increase its intelligence quotient based on the amount of data required to process."

The Doctor became annoyed, but his interpersonal skills had much improved after seven years of being active. "As I was saying, although he appears to be unconscious he is actually quite conscious. These tricorder readings provide the proof that he's not merely dreaming but he is actually aware of his surroundings and interpreting that information in a holodeck-like state." He half turned toward Seven. "You may also be interested to know this species lacks any sort of gender but I felt it rather dispassionate to refer to him as 'it'."

Janeway took one more look at the unconscious Okari lying helplessly on the biobed. She couldn't help but wonder how this strange species will react to the being aboard Voyager. After all, he did seek assistance, and there was no indication of hostility from his ship. Perhaps it was something else, the feeling of Borg nearby. She resisted the urge to fidget with her comm badge. Although she felt as if she wasn't able to justify the distrust for the alien, she had to rely on her instincts. "Tuvok." She stepped aside toward the Doctor's science station, Tuvok followed his Captain inside. After what she had just learned, she felt she needed a bit more privacy. "I want security around Sickbay before he regains consciousness, there's no telling what he is capable of."

Tuvok nodded in acknowledgement and was compelled to speak his mind. "Captain, given Seven of Nine's statements about the Okari's origin and the Doctors assessment of its physiology, I recommend going to red alert for the duration of its time here." He provided an emphasis on "its" while eying the Doctor.

She looked into the eyes of her security officer and grinned. "It's nice to know I'm not alone in my paranoia."

"Paranoia refers to a kind of human intuition. I am simply deducing the probability of hostility based on this species' established traits."

"You're right. That sounds like suspicion to me." She joked with a smirk. "Computer, red alert."

The lights dimmed as defensive and weapon systems came online. Red lights along the corridors flashed briefly as crewmen scattered to their posts. Lieutenant Commander Tuvok returned to the bridge.

"Seven, I want you to work with the Doctor and get more information about its physiology. Let me know the moment he regains consciousness."

"Understood," Seven said, and walked toward a medical locker.

The Captain made her way out of Sickbay and back to the turbo-lift. On her way she thought about the hail that ended abruptly. The sounds and visions were typical of a distress call. It seemed like this alien was not of Borg origin. Had she known better she might have been convinced this creature had no affiliation with the Borg at all. Its implants were barely noticeable, as if it had been removed from the Collective with ease. It didn't seem to want to assimilate them, which was the kind of behavior she expected from a species that had willingly let themselves be annihilated by the impenitent Collective. But there was something else about its obvious distress. It seemed to know her, by name. It wasn't really all that surprising to the infamous Captain, known throughout the quadrant and a permanent memory in every drone. But it made her more cautious. The eerie feeling cramped her stomach. She knew this little guy wasn't after an autograph.

Her Ready Room doors hissed open. The replicator tirelessly produced her favorite blend for another round. "Second cup already, this is going to be a long day." Before she could take her first gulp, a medium frequency beep signified an officer wanting inside her ready room.

"Come in." She poured the hot coffee quickly.

Chakotay entered with his casual smile. "Second cup already? It might be quicker to just imbibe intravenously."

She gave him a big smile and chuckled. "A hypospray filled with coffee, huh? The Doctor's matrix might destabilize at that idea."

"We wouldn't want to go through that again." He said with a humorous eye. His calming smile slightly diminished. His thoughts were reflected in his cheek.

"What's on your mind, Chakotay?"

"Anything about our latest guest seem odd to you?"

Many years had brought the Captain and her first officer closer in trust with every obstacle the delta quadrant could throw at them. The connection was borderline telepathic, and for that reason she wasn't at all surprised that his question was exactly parallel to her thoughts. "Oddly enough, this situation is giving me a strange gut feeling. I just hope this day doesn't end with an armored cube chasing us around the quadrant."

"Let's hope." He shifted his position, clearly about to display the reason for his visit. "There was something about its face. It reminded me of Lifton's Exoarchaeology class back at Starfleet Academy. There was a very ambitious student, very smart, top of the class. Well he had this idea that Vulcan's weren't the first alien species to come into contact with humans."

That caught her off guard. It was a very interesting idea. "Oh? Our friend in Sickbay?"

He nodded a confirming gesture. "An ancient human civilization, the Sumerians, believed that a Sky God called the Anunnaki came from the stars and taught them advanced technology, even bred with humans. I also remember how the student came in one day with a clay sculpted statue that he said was a 6,000 year old Sumerian sculpture of the Anunnaki. Our sleeping guest reminded me of that sculpture."

Intrigued, she wanted to know more. "You think there could be a connection?"

"To tell you the truth I don't know. But when the alien awakes this could be an opportunity to solve a mystery that's interested me for a long time."

She sat back in her chair and revolved slightly with both hands still clasping her cup. "Then it's settled. Congratulations, Ambassador. Your knowledge and expertise of the Okari, or should I say, Anunnaki, will prove to be our best bet for a successful 'second contact'. Plus Seven still needs to work on her diplomacy skills."

Chakotay stood with a smile and straightened his uniform. "You read my mind."


	2. Past Observations

* Disclaimer. I don't own Star Trek. Although how cool would that be? This is just something I do for fun and not for money. Okay now that's out of the way, on to the nerdy stuff. *

B'Elanna Torres was standing behind the warp core diagnostic station with a couple of padd's, working on more efficient ways for recycling injector coolant. Although being eight months pregnant she never wanted to take a day off. She thought she could spend the morning distracting herself from the fact that her ankles had swollen to Klingon proportions. A little engineering math was certainly nothing Tom would complain about. Plus she didn't exactly want to get her hands dirty today.

Ensign Mulcahey delivered a padd that the Chief Engineer had previously requested, "Lieutenant."

"Thanks." She stacked it on top of the other two in her hand. She had to brush up on her chemistry, as pregnancy didn't help with remembering things.

The intercom buzzed in Engineering. It was the Captain's voice. "Lieutenant Torres please report to the Main Shuttle Bay."

She looked up from her padd's and sighed. She knew she may not be able to avoid getting her hands dirty after all.

Inside the Shuttle Bay Ensign Harry Kim and Lieutenant Tom Paris were examining the small craft that had belonged to the alien in Sickbay. The radiation had been neutralized by the resonance pulse of the tractor beam. Their tricorders were registering highly localized electromagnetic fluctuations around every square millimeter of the hull. Tom theorized, "That would be a good way to deflect sensors."

"Not a very sophisticated cloak, though," Harry added. "You can see this thing with optical sensors up to a light year." He points his tricorder around the bow. "This alloy is mostly gold, lined with nickel-titanium and carbon fibers."

Tom stopped his readings for a moment. "You know, that sounds like the kind of alloys used in 20th century spacecraft."

"What ever is producing this insane EM field is certainly not 20th century technology," Harry deemed necessary to point out. The two walked around the cigar-shaped craft and hadn't noticed B'Elanna had entered the shuttle bay. "I still can't seem to find anything that looks like a propulsion system."

"That's because you're not an engineer, Harry."

Tom's face lifted at the sight of his beautiful wife. He found her to be ever more attractive as the pregnancy progressed. "Good morning, sunshine."

"Glad you could join us." Harry smiled. It had been a while since he'd seen a woman with a child growing inside her, not since Ensign Wildman had Naomi. He was delighted to see B'Elanna like this. He wondered how long it would be before the day came when he had his own family. He knew it would happen eventually.

"What have we got here?" B'Elanna was quite curious about this strange ship behind them. An engineering mystery like this might be worth getting those hands dirty.

"That, is what we can't seem to figure out." Tom's reluctance to say with certainty was obvious. "We think it's a ship."

"We think." Harry said sarcastically.

Even without a tricorder, the Chief Engineer had already discovered something interesting about the craft. "Hmmm, now what's this? A thruster assembly port?" Looking around the port side, she scoured away space dust that had clustered together in the shape of the magnetic field surrounding it. Learning from B'Elanna's example, Tom did the same on the starboard side, revealing a starboard thruster port. Clearing away the strange dust helped improve the sensor resolution from the tricorder.

"I found something." Harry's tricorder beeped with new data. "I'm picking up a low-band subspace signal. It's transmitting a distress call."

"Still?" B'Elanna queried.

"Let me see if I can shut it down." The others didn't object since obviously this distress call was received and acknowledged. Harry made several calculations in his head, decrypting the ship's file system to access the emergency subroutines. He quickly executed the correct command and the ship ceased transmitting. "Got it."

"Okay let's see if we can take a peek inside." Tom began running his fingers along the hull, looking for a button, a switch, anything that might do something. He found nothing.

Now that Harry had access to the ships systems, he wanted to see what was in its database. "There's not much in the database, just a few encrypted files." He discovered something that made him grimace. He slightly groaned, although he knew he'd find something like this. "Wait a minute, this is a Borg encryption algorithm."

B'Elanna looked calm and confident at the news. "Don't do anything else. Just download the database and we'll look at it later."

It didn't make sense to Tom. This ship didn't look Borg at all. "Borg don't have escape pods, do they?"

"I don't think so." Harry was also puzzled by the discovery.

The three continued their analysis of the strange ship. Though the algorithm was the most significant discovery, they couldn't find a hatch or even a docking port. It was built like a true cylinder, cupped at both ends, nothing protruding. It had a smooth silver-looking surface. But a closer analysis revealed microscopic patterns that lined the entire hull. One could say it was like a fish with very tiny scales. The thruster ports they had seen earlier weren't thruster ports, they were a unique housing for what ever kind of engine powered the ship. It seemed the only way they could know this ship any better would be from the pilot.

The Doctor hummed his 187th favorite aria in a well-programmed tone. He placed beakers inside centrifuges while his DNA analysis of the alien continued, finding many more interesting things about the creature. He admired beings that design themselves with cybernetic implants. His programmed empathy for all lifeforms included those that embrace integrated technology as a tool for improvement. In spite of the Borg's insidious endeavors, he still had a certain respect for that form of life.

He put surgical instruments on a tray, organizing them by order of common usage. Setting them down he noticed the little grey guy sitting upright, looking very confused. The Doctor was all too happy to welcome him aboard. He thought first he would call his Captain to Sickbay. "Janeway to Sickbay. Our friend is, awake."

"Acknowledged."

Walking up to greet him, The Doctor kept calm and peaceful with a chipper grin. "Hello. You're on board Voyager, we rescued you after responding to your distress call. You're going to be just fine. I've healed your wounds."

The skinny alien remained quiet. Its transparent eyelids flickered open and shut repeatedly for a moment. He seemed rather groggy and disoriented. Only after a few moments did he acknowledge the Doctor's presence. "Photonic?" He spoke in a low tone and a crackling voice, as if he were actually much older than he appeared to be.

"That's exactly right! I see you're quite adept with holography."

He didn't respond right away but kept staring at the Doctor. "The matrix is easily rendered." Eyelids flickered much faster after he noticed the Doctor appeared to have been insulted.

In the interest of good relations, he kept his damaged pride to himself. He was relieved when the Captain had arrived.

"What's his condition?"

"As far as I can tell he's perfectly fine. The plasma burns have healed remarkably quickly. Compared to humans his cellular regeneration rate is over a hundred times faster, which is probably his secret to such smooth skin."

"Can I talk to him?"

"Aside from a little grogginess he appears to be lucid. But he doesn't seem like much of a social fly."

She stepped forward closer to the alien with caution, trying to mask her seemingly irrational nervousness about the situation.

"I am Captain Janeway, you're on my ship. Can you tell me who you are? What happened to you?"

The alien struggled to come up with words. It seemed quite uncomfortable attempting to speak. "Humans?" He paused for a long moment, eyelids jolting up and down at a bee wing rate, then ceased, apparently shocked to see humans at all. "I am the third of a triad. I... We... crashed, on a mission."

Janeway kept an intent eye on the creature. Its breathing was heavy, she didn't want to push too hard, too fast. "Where are the others? The other two?"

"They... are dead."

She didn't want to upset the alien further so she quickly changed the subject. "Where did you crash? What was your mission?"

"Our mission was to watch... you."

"Me?"

"Humans."

Her mind went to the many times an alien species liked to observe us. The phase shifted aliens that gave her the worst migraine any human had ever endured came to mind. The Doctor was eavesdropping and couldn't help but provide a commentary, "How lucky for him to find the only human vessel in thousands of light years."

"Doctor!" He paced away and returned to his beakers. "I don't understand. You were watching Voyager?"

"Not Voyager. Earthlings." The tiny alien let out a brief sigh, as if remorse had begun to overpower his thoughts. "We crashed on Earth. Humans found us, took us, disassembled us. Our mission was observation. One and Two became angry. Told Humans, if we give them our fuel to make spaceship, they would let us leave. They took our ship, took it apart. We were imprisoned." Sickbay computers began beeping loudly.

"Doctor."

The Doctor scanned the alien, still attempting to continue with his story. "Humans took One and Two also. They were not treated fairly. I escaped. Built my own ship to leave. But Borg discovered my signature. I tried to make false signature but failed. They intercepted. My ship has gravity drive, destabilized the transwarp conduit. The Borg and my ship deposited in delta quadrant, into the... future." At that point it became nearly unbearable to speak. The Doctor intervened.

"I'm sorry Captain, his vitals are fluctuating. I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Alright." Janeway exits Sickbay in a state of mild bewilderment. But the first thing she thought about was the Borg. She tapped her communicator, "Janeway to the Bridge."

Chakotay responds, "Bridge here."

"I want constant sensor sweeps for Borg transwarp signatures. And I want that force field in the Shuttle Bay increased to level 10. Have Seven of Nine meet me in the Shuttle Bay."

"Aye, Captain." He looked at Tuvok and nodded, giving the order.

The crew developed a tension that could be felt through the air. The sweat on the consoles, being under constant red alert, waiting for the Borg to come and assimilate them. But the gloom never lasted long. On a ship this small, each man and woman knew each other like family. Each one could predict the other. With time and friendship, the crew of Voyager stopped feeling anxiety. They were professional space explorers, and there was a profound safety with confidence in those around them. Even in the face of the Collective, the Voyager collective stood strong.


	3. Intentionally Assimilated

* Disclaimer. I don't own Star Trek. Although how cool would that be? This is just something I do for fun and not for money. Okay now that's out of the way, on to the nerdy stuff. *

Inside Cargo Bay 2, Seven of Nine was downloading relevant information pertaining to the Okari from her Borg interface. The Doctor would find this information useful for his diagnosis. From her memory of the Borg's collective mind, she knew the Okari were benign in nature, an entire species endowed with the singular purpose of attaining perfection. She had profound respect for them. Although she felt she had the same distrust for this alien that she had for the Borg, she needed to keep that prejudice at bay.

The download completed and after several swift keystrokes on her padd, the data package had been sent to the Doctor's console. "Seven of Nine to the Doctor."

"Go ahead, Seven."

"I've sent relevant medical data about the Okari to your console."

"I see it here, thank you Seven."

"You're welcome."

The channel closed and only a few seconds later, Chakotay summoned her to the Shuttle Bay.

"Acknowledged, Commander."

Seven set a personal attempt to have genuine compassion for the alien while on her way to the analysis of its ship. She understood the relevance of such an emotion regarding the alien. While Borg at the core, she had become accustomed to the underlying emotion of her human instincts.

B'Elanna extracted the final kiloquads of data from the Okari database when she heard the Shuttle Bay doors open for Seven. "Just the person we needed. Grab a tricorder, although I don't know how good it'll be for you."

When Seven saw the ship, it struck her with a feeling of nostalgia. It wasn't precisely a memory, but it seemed like some extrapolation of a certain technology she'd assimilated in the past.

She grabbed a tricorder and scanned the bow. After slowly walking around the craft, gaining sensor data, she came across something that was very interesting. Through advanced excitations of quantum field formulas, she came to a conclusion, "I am detecting a very faint tachyon field. But sensor resolution is low due to the outer-lining of the hull." She quickly tapped the tricorder, changing the sensor mode. "I will try to compensate."

The hatch suddenly began to slowly rise. Tiny bright lights covered every centimeter of the interior. Its computer shone with extreme complexity. Several lights blinked at seemingly random and swift intervals. The engine had been tucked away inside, toward the bow and behind the intricate computer. Wires were strung all around the ship which converged at the stern. Now it looked more like a cocoon, which was just large enough for the alien lying in Sickbay.

The alien abruptly sat upright, clearly agitated. Its black eyes, covered by the once transparent eyelids were changing to a more red color. It began producing deep guttural moans. The Doctor took notice of this, and hasted his step with concern.

Readings from the biobed would baffle any human physician, but the Doctor quickly diagnosed his patient. "Your synaptic processors are causing the surrounding tissue to accumulate alanine." He had to understand why. "What's happening to you?"

"Doctor! Humans inside my ship! Must not allow this! Not yet!"

The Doctor quickly punched his communicator, knowing his patients distress may worsen if they didn't have this knowledge immediately. "Doctor to Captain Janeway."

"Go ahead Doctor."

"My patient is in distress. He says it's being caused by any of us entering his ship. I strongly recommend we cease the analysis of his ship."

"Understood Doctor. Inform our guest I wish to speak with him again."

The alien nodded and waved his hand.

"I believe he heard you Captain."

"Janeway out." The turbolift had taken her almost halfway to the Cargo Bay, but the Captain's priority had changed with the Doctor's call. "Computer, delay that. Deck 5." The computer let out a confirming tone, and the carriage of the turbolift was redirected seamlessly. "Janeway to Lieutenant Torres."

"Torres here."

"Have you learned anything further about the Okari vessel?"

She looked at Seven of Nine and grinned. "Our resident genius figured out how to open the thing."

Seven stood proud with her hands behind her and nodded a friendly gesture.

"The Doctor seems to think what ever you're doing is causing the alien distress. I want you to suspend your analysis immediately until further notice."

"Understood." B'Elanna didn't want to stop. But following orders became second nature to her.

"Leave it to the Doctor to stop us just when we started to learn something," Harry said with a chaffing inflection.

Seven made several keystrokes on her tricorder. The ship's door began gently close until the outline of it had disappeared along the hull, as if the door were never there.

Tom thought long and hard about the origin of this craft. He felt it to be familiar in a small sense, a part of a dream perhaps. He knew what he had to do, the overpowering urge to understand was growing stronger as he stared at it. "While you two finish up here, Harry and I are gonna go check out something."

"We are?"

"Come on Harry. I've got a hunch."

"One of those again. I hope this time I don't end up stranded on an Akritirian prison ship."

"Don't be so dramatic, Harry. At least this time you don't even have to..." Their banter continued as they exited the Shuttle Bay.

Seven posed an expression that caused her to raise a brow at the two best friends. She looked back down before her work continued on the tricorder to disconnect the interface between it and the alien ship. But before she could execute the command, a brief flash of Borg cryptology appeared before her eyes. She was stunned by it, unable to do anything but process it. It took only a few seconds before her consciousness reintegrated itself. "Lieutenant, with your permission, I have an urgent matter I must address."

B'Elanna seemed surprised at the request, but saw no reason to deny her. She could finish the analysis suspension herself. "Okay. You're relieved."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Seven handed her the closed tricorder and briskly walked out.

B'Elanna opened the tricorder. She noticed that Seven had neglected to stop her program for tachyon detection, and also that the interface with the ship had not been severed.

Sickbay had seen its fair share of strange aliens before. But this one was causing some of the surgical instruments to power up while they're on the tray. The Doctor knew it was because he was producing small bursts of high frequency electromagnetic fields powerful enough to power anything electronic within arm-lengths' distance. It was a unique feature of the Okari, who seemed to have a bit more desire to speak with the Captain. Their conversation was going much more smoothly this time. The Doctor still felt the need to be nearby in case anything went wrong.

"You may call me Anshar. Name given by humans."

"Humans from the past?"

"Yes." Anshar said, in a deep tone.

"Well, Anshar. Do you know how far into the future you traveled?"

"Time makes Humans synchronized. Not necessary for me. However. Changed time format upon arrival. Pulsar chronometer adjusted per Human year and spatial distance measurement. Current year 2378. Traveled approximately 30,000 light years and 329 years into the future."

The doors to Sickbay opened and Seven of Nine walked in to interrupt their conversation. She hurriedly marched toward Anshar, and in a lightning-fast swing placed her assimilation tubules in Anshar's jugular artery. Thousands of nanoprobes filled the alien's body in an instant. It was too late for the Captain to stop it, but she tried anyway.

"What the hell! Seven!" She grabbed Seven's arm and threw it aside.

Seven's purpose had been fulfilled, and the programming that drove her to assimilate Anshar had deleted itself, leaving Seven without any knowledge of why. She snapped back to normal, looking at her hand with confusion. "I'm sorry, Captain, I could not control it, it was not of my will."

Anshar's strange displays of emotion emerged, eyelids flickering. But all of it stopped to help reassure the Captain. "Captain Janeway. Be peaceful. Not as it seems to you."

She turned her attention closer to Anshar. "Explain yourself."

"You are peaceful Humans. Sensed it all around me. Save Doctor."

The Doctor shifted, knowing Anshar couldn't sense him because he was a hologram, it still shortened his affection for Anshar slightly.

Anshar continued, "When Seven of Nine accessed my ship, the datacore, I felt her mind, her peaceful mind. Attritional in my methods. Humans have respect for free will. I understand. But you must understand. I am peaceful too."

"I'm not sure I believe your peaceful intentions when you treat my crewman like Borg drones." The Captain reinforced.

"I tend to agree with Captain Janeway," The Doctor added.

Anshar trembled to alter his position toward the Captain. "Trust earned within. I do not merely speak the words, comprehend and embrace them." Anshar had their attention at this. "My act of trust, will be to open my ship to you."

Janeway liked the proposal. But her training made her aware that there are always two sides to a coin. "Sounds like a good start. But what's the catch?"

"Catch?" Anshar didn't understand at her query.

"It means, what do you want in return?" Seven said as Janeway's surprise at Seven's progress was made obvious by her proud grin.

The grey alien delayed in its response, unsure if these Humans would agree to perhaps unreasonable terms. "Seven of Nine establish subspace link between cortical nodes."

Seven restrained from displaying any kind of emotion that Janeway could notice even though she focused keenly on Seven's response to Anshar's proposal. She debated thoroughly, conjuring the required steps in order to carry out the process. She knew the Doctor's assistance would be essential.

As if the alien had read Seven's mind, "Link is temporary. Control parameters indexed by your protocols. Information exchange only."

Seven nodded and finally agreed to Anshar's request. "I accept your terms."

The Doctor butted in with bated restraint. "Now wait just a minute. I didn't agree to this. Seven, are you sure you want to do this? There's no guarantee I will be able to prevent permanent damage to your cortical node should anything go wrong. And we all know how difficult those are to come by."

"I appreciate your concern Doctor. However I believe your assistance will be required. I will need you to monitor the link to make sure I remain in control." She turned toward Anshar, excited at Seven's decision. "An alcove will need to be adapted to your physiology. It will require approximately one hour."

Anshar stood on his feet for the first time. He raised his hand in a greeting gesticulation, "My ship connects to me. Can open it now. Please. Push no buttons. Scanners only."

"That seems reasonable to me." The Captain said reluctantly, thinking that trust had to start at least without strings, but tried to cut them one string at a time.

With Anshar's connection, the hatch on his ship suddenly began to rise, and that surprised B'Elanna, nearly scaring her into delivery.

"Chakotay to Janeway. Report to the bridge."

"On my way." She gave Anshar one last smile and left, slowly walking away with pride. Progress was made.

The bridge tension was high. Tuvok had discovered something that made Chakotay grimace with medium calamity. Upon the Captain's arrival, Tuvok conveyed his findings. "Captain, I've detected Borg debris located approximately 1.2 light years from here. The debris is scattered on a Class H planet in the nearby star system."

Janeway saw this coming. And in preparation for such a discovery, she already knew the command she would give, "Set a course, Ensign, warp 5."

Tuvok sent the coordinates to the helm. The relief helmsman set the course and initiated the engines. As the Nacell's extended and powered up, the ship jumped at warp speed toward the system.


	4. The Mind of Anshar

* Disclaimer. I don't own Star Trek. Although how cool would that be? This is just something I do for fun and not for money. Okay now that's out of the way, on to the nerdy stuff. *

"Captain's Log: Stardate 54927.7. The Okari remains under the Doctor's supervision, as Seven of Nine's nanoprobes may have unforeseen implications to its physiology. It has given permission for a detailed analysis of its ship, preliminary scans show a temporal displacement field, confirming the Okari's claim that it really is from the past, perhaps, even from Earth. Borg debris has been detected in a nearby star system, and I've given the order to investigate. We will arrive in approximately two hours."

Voyager was steadily approaching the system. Janeway decided to use a little bit of time to make some notes in her personal log. "Seven's decision to cooperate with Anshar leaves me, uneasy. I can't help but have some sense that she will lose a part of herself that she'd worked so hard to reclaim. Anshar appears very intelligent, as much as you'd expect from a technologically advanced cybernetic species, but it appears no amount of intelligence will keep any species from getting stranded in the delta quadrant. I wish I had a clear indication of his motives. I'm hoping the Borg debris field will shed some light on Anshar's mysterious origins."

She closed her personal computer, officially ending the log entries. Her business in the ready room was finished, and went to sit in the Captain's chair on the bridge.

Harry was skeptical at first by Tom's hunch. But on the Holodeck he could produce all the proof he needed.

"The Okari said he was from the past, right?" Tom said, giving Harry more reason to believe him.

"He did say that."

"He said 329 years. That means he was from the year, uh," Tom tried to do the math in his head quicker than Harry, but Harry had already heard about the conversations between the Captain and the Okari, completing Tom's sentence.

"…2047. That was during World War III."

Tom began his unorthodox process of remembering faint memories. "Alright that's a place to start. Computer," the query tone sounded. "Extrapolate a full scale replica of the alien vessel in the Main Shuttle Bay."

In front of them the holographic photons molded together to form an exact copy of the 12 meter cylindrical ship. It held an artificial gleam upon any eyes that looked on it from every point of view. Tom thought it looked like an advanced hot rod.

"Now, Computer, are there any records of a craft like this one reported on Earth during the years, 2040-2050?"

The computer paused while processing and compiling information, it tolled upon completion, "There is one known record regarding a spacecraft similar to specified parameters."

The two were very curious to see exactly how similar they were. Tom jumped right away to his next command, "Well, let's see it."

The computer indicated confirmation, and instantly formed a ship beside the replica, a ship of exact dimensions. They were exactly the same length; the only noticeable difference came from the color. The one that the computer had found in the database appeared much more beaten up than the other, darker, and not as smooth. But the resemblance was so striking that Tom wanted to know how much. "Computer, exactly how similar is these two ships?"

"Dimensions are precise within a .03% margin of error. Alloy and composition of the ship from records is osmium, ruthenium, duratanium and 7 synthetic transitional metals. Specified ship is composed of gold, nickel-titanium, carbon concentrates, and several rare Earth metals."

"Definitely not made of the same stuff." Harry pointed out.

"No kidding." Tom walked around and in between each of the two ships, intrigued by their design. It's aerodynamically sound.

"Computer, speculate on our specified ships' method of propulsion." Harry asked the computer.

"Unable to speculate, insufficient data."

They weren't surprised with the response. Tom felt a little less dumbfounded when the computer admitted to being ignorant in its own way, the irony made him chuckle a bit. "Finally, something the computer doesn't know."

Harry was frustrated. He felt restless trying to study something when he knew Voyager was moving somewhere. His duty was to be at his post. Trying to convince Tom to leave the holodeck was a chore in itself. At least he didn't have to be a monochromatic Buster this time. "I'm going back to the bridge. I'll let you get back to your, hunch."

Tom looked up at him from between the two holographic ships with a disappointed glare. "You can't give up now, Harry, we just got started." He rubbed his hands along the hull of the ship from the database. He tried to find some indication that this thing has a hatch too. "Computer, does this thing have a hatch?"

"Affirmative."

"Open it." Tom took a step back as the ancient ship's hatch nonchalantly creaked open.

Inside was a cradle designed to hold a large nuclear warhead. A memory from Tom's past entered into his mind. It was of a spacecraft built by augmented humans. As a boy, Tom had read novels about the Eugenics Wars that had torn into humanity before World War III. He remembered from one of them a tale about a genetically engineered human that was designed with a superhuman IQ level. The augment created vast amounts of new technologies and sparked innovations in propulsion mechanics. He was one of the first to make a practical sub-light speed engine capable of traveling light years without refueling. This tiny ship was something he created to send a nuclear warhead to nearly the speed of light using extreme acceleration. A craft so small, it would be easy to accelerate so quickly. The unique augment wrote stories of fantasies of an entire fleet of nuclear weapons, descending upon all military governments at once, while fashioning himself the Emperor of the World and beyond. There were still many mysteries to this engineered human. But Tom finally remembered where he first saw the ship.

"Computer, widen the search parameters to include 20th century Earth."

"None found with exact dimensions."

Harry had an idea. "Computer, forget the dimensions, just use the hull composition as a search template."

"12 entries found."

Tom could feel the investigation progressing. He was excited to finally make the connection. "Computer, tell us about the earliest documented of those 12."

"In 1947, an extraterrestrial spacecraft crash landed in Roswell, New Mexico. Information about the ship and its contents were deemed classified until later declassified in 2054 after a stable United Nations decreed the Free Information Act as part of the Nuclear-Fallout Protection Plan. Parts of the ship were reverse engineered and later put to use toward medical technologies and also contributed toward humanity's complete understanding of the force of gravity."

Tom grew weary of the history lesson, "That's great, Computer, what can you tell me about who built the thing?"

"Information pertaining to that subject is not available."

The two officers sighed heavily. But they didn't give up trying. Tom was sure he would uncover something about Anshar that he somehow felt was there, hidden, and buried deep in that database. The brick wall that temporarily stopped him was only the first of a dozen, and he was determined to be thorough.

Harry ended up staying for the ride. He decided Tom's obsession needed close mediation and who better than his best friend to give him a slap in the face when he needed it. Harry cracked a small smile in anticipation of such a thoroughly justifiable outcome. Although Harry wouldn't admit it to Tom, he actually enjoyed this little investigation.

They examined smaller scale representations of each of the 12 ships. Some were of the same cigar-shape as the first, some were designed to be massive mother ships, but most of them were saucer shaped. Tom felt like he was going through a 20th century science fiction museum, recognizing some of the configurations from many of his favorite B movies. One of the ships was constructed in a manner that was meticulously similar to Captain Proton's ship. He began to remember how much paranoia filled humanity during the late 20th and early 21st centuries, as the human population peaked, many of them believed in intelligent life beyond the Earth. It was assumed that they just didn't have any proof, and all cultural media related to aliens was shrugged off as pure fantasy. Tom explained this to Harry, but Harry couldn't understand why this part of history was never taught at Starfleet Academy.

It occurred to Tom that the alien in Sickbay must have been the owner of one of these ships. "If that's the case, then…"

Harry finished his sentence, "…then we'll have to re-write our history books."

The doors to the holodeck sprung open as Chakotay walked through them. His demeanor appeared annoyed, and definitely not surprised.

"So this is where all the auxiliary power for our shields is going. You do remember we're under red alert, gentleman?"

"Tom's obsessed," Harry was quick to inform Chakotay.

"Chakotay, exactly the man I was thinking of. You stopped by just in time; we've found something about the little guy in Sickbay that you probably want to know."

Chakotay glanced at the holographic ship situated behind the officers. He noticed the saucer shaped structure, inducing another déjà vu feeling within his mind. Still he needed to remain firm in his tone. "When I asked you two to take a look at the alien ship, I wasn't saying go recreate it on the holodeck."

"Trust me this was worth it. You're never going to believe where this one came from." He walked around the holographic craft in front of them. Tom had hoped he'd find something interesting before Chakotay stuck his head in their investigation. Fortunately he'd already finished in his mind the performance he would give, and Harry would notoriously seal the deal.

Curiosity got the better of the first officer. He let his command posture go into a jubilant archaeology mode. He listened to their presentation with an interested ear. Tom showed him evidence he couldn't believe at first. The third ship he saw excited a memory from Chakotay's childhood, a story his father told him of an early tribesman claiming to have been abducted by aliens, but no one had ever believed him. Chakotay pat them a "good work" compliment, and then escorted them back to the bridge.

The Sickbay intercom buzzed, accompanied with Seven's voice. "Seven of Nine to the Doctor,"

"Go ahead, Seven."

"I am ready for you and the Okari in the Cargo Bay."

"Understood, we're on our way."

After the channel closed the Doctor walked toward Anshar with standard-issue civilian clothing, tailored to his unique proportions by the replicator.

"These are for you, unless you plan on walking around the ship, naked."

"This is itchy human custom." He struggled with the sleeves, slipping his arms through only after asking the Doctor for assistance. "Clothing makes modesty govern society. Why let this be so?"

"Unlike you, we have parts that we feel the need to hide."

Anshar waved his hand, agreeing to disagree. Anshar wobbled awkwardly as they made their way to the Cargo Bay. He looked around in amazement, seeing all the advancements humans had made over the last few centuries. Crewman in the corridors stood in mild shock at the sight of Anshar, evoking a feeling of irrational fear. He took no notice of it, knowing for certain his safety would be ensured by the Doctors programming.

They entered their destination with Seven standing in front of a carefully contrived alcove with her hands behind her, patiently awaiting their arrival. The new alcove was smaller than the one she used, but she linked them together like alcoves in Borg ships, engineering a unique interplexing beacon with limited range, only encompassing the alcoves.

The grey alien gracelessly paced toward Seven with his mind reaching out to her. Being former Borg, Seven instantly understood his thoughts. He focused on his telepathy nodes, translating not just his thoughts, but his emotions into a subspace signal. Thanks to the involuntary injection of some of her nanoprobes, he was able to transmit to the exact frequency of her cortical implant. She bowed her head slightly, comprehending the feeling of gratification he sent her. Something about the alien made her very trusting.

Seven and Anshar stepped inside the Borg alcoves and turned around. The Doctor opened his portable med-kit and pulled a circular instrument from it. "This is a synaptic monitor. It will allow me to help this go more smoothly." He placed one on Anshar, and the other on Seven. "I am ready whenever you two are."

She inhaled one more deep breath, gazed down at Anshar, "are you sure you are ready?"

"Yes."

"Computer, initiate Regeneration Cycle."

After the computer toned, Seven closed her eyes. The Doctor kept a close watch on the brain wave patterns of the two, noticing the steady repetition of the waves, indicating they are proceeding well.

The alien's mind was like a new world, satisfying every sense. Only this was more like a new ship. She found herself standing inside a vessel, colorful blinking lights covering the interior in a similar manner to Anshar's ship in the Shuttle Bay. But this was much larger, obviously built for multiple humanoids. The bulkheads sparked with an encumbrance of bio-luminescent life forms, showing a massive amount of energy passing through. Musky smells annoyed her to a degree. Half dozen grey aliens of different sizes worked habitually at each station, appearing to ignore Seven's presence. The tallest one moved closer to the edge of the room where Seven was standing. The alien shifted left and glared with an ominous intent. Hardly startled, Seven looked around to see all six of them staring at her. Moments later they all began to speak in one harmonious reverberating tone.

"Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One. Your presence here is authorized."

Curious, Seven felt it to be a good time to ask her first question, "Why did you request my presence?"

"You are unique among humans. We have passion for cybernetic life forms. We are also of technological origin. We desire peaceful coexistence, knowledge, compassion for all life forms."

Seven nodded her head slightly, liking what she heard. "Humans agree."

"Not always."

Pausing, Seven frowned with the response, she needed more. "Elaborate."

The aliens slowly staggered toward Seven. This caused her to take a step away nervously, unable to keep herself from displaying fear. She realized she was in control, and there was nothing that could get by the Doctor. She stood her ground while the aliens began to close in on her. They started to grab her and held on, the environment changed, and she began to experience memories from the small Okari collective. They elicited memories of their observation missions, abduction and lethal experiments on humans, climate modification, breeding projects, everything they did to humans and Earth in the past 1200 years. She felt overwhelmed at first, downloading so much information at once.

Minutes pass as the Doctor records brief variations in Seven's heart rate. It kept returning to normal. The Doctor didn't like this, although he wouldn't want something to go wrong just to break the link early. Seven was clearly adamant she wanted to go through with this despite the risks, confident in her abilities to anticipate every contingency. It was definitely her greatest strength, and most annoying attribute, the Doctor thought.

Environments shifted from one to the other as she witnessed horrible atrocities committed by the Okari. It was communicated to her that it was all done for the purpose of science, but that didn't convince her.

They began another series of memories, those of the crash in the southwest portion of the northern continent. A highly improbable malfunction caused the thousand year old craft to spin through Earth's atmosphere and impact at subsonic speeds, sending the aliens flying, and then landed several hundred meters from the crash site. Humans had discovered the debris and the injured aliens and taken them to a secret facility located in a remote part of a desert. The aliens spent the next 80 years confined and tortured, interrogated and mutilated countless times. Surgeons extracted their implants and examined the mechanics. A particularly barbaric human was fascinated with their regenerative capability; wounds would heal in hours instead of days. Two of the aliens did not survive. Anshar was left with the single desire to leave, with no safety left in numbers, he barely survived the escape. The memories flashed continuously until Seven spoke to the lone alien, Anshar.

"There were mistakes, on both sides." Seven said in a soothing voice. "Peace can still be repaired."

His apathetic manner was quickly changed to a human-like exultation. Anshar's eyes blinked rapidly with excitement. Although the species never evolved muscles to give definite facial expressions, he attempted a smile, and spoke in his collective voice. "Thank you."

The regeneration cycle ended after only a half hour. Seven opened her eyes and stepped out of the alcove as Anshar mirrored her. The Doctor stood with a medical tricorder over the two, happy that everything went smoothly. "I hope you two had a nice nap. It looked to have been quite peaceful according to my scanners."

Seven gave him confirming nod, "It was." She kept her experience to herself, to the Doctor's dismay. She felt if humans aboard Voyager had discovered the boorish experiments the Okari had performed over many years, they might react poorly.

Voyager dropped out of warp. On the screen appeared a planet with an orange glow, covered in colossal dust storms. Sparse clouds patched a thick oxygen-argon atmosphere. As the fourth planet in this binary star system, it was roughly the size of Earth. But it reminded Janeway of Ocampa.

Tuvok's panel beeped with a warning that the tactical scanners had detected a threat, "Captain, I've located the debris, spread around almost 40 square kilometers, 11 degrees south of the equatorial line."

Harry completed his scan of the region, "I'm not detecting any life signs on the surface."

Janeway paced around behind Tom. "Keep scanning for transwarp signatures. Chakotay, take an away team. See if you can find out what happened down there."

The first officer took a brief glimpse at Tuvok and Harry before they followed him into the turbolift. "Seven of Nine report to Transporter Room 1."

"Acknowledged, Commander."


	5. Borg Attack

* Disclaimer. I don't own Star Trek. Although how cool would that be? This is just something I do for fun and not for money. Okay now that's out of the way, on to the nerdy stuff. *

An away team of four materialized inside the largest intact section of the crashed Borg ship. Four wrist-wrapped flashlights powered on simultaneously. With phasers set to a rotating modulation and tricorders set to a constant scan, they immediately initiated defensive protocols for the dangerous away mission. Aside from Tuvok, all of them developed watery eyes from the rancid smell. They buried their remonstrations and continued with scans.

Chakotay plodded forward in the feverish heat, stepping over the Borg corpses. "There must be thousands of drones around here. All dead."

"They had to have been going pretty fast on impact," Harry speculated.

Tuvok conducted several Vulcan-quick calculations assisted with his tricorder, "According to the dispersal pattern of the debris field, I estimate the speed upon impact was one quarter impulse."

"Not much of a crater; they must have been trying to make an emergency landing." Chakotay said.

"A very unsuccessful one." Seven pointed out, as she straightened her bearings, burying her fear. "This was a long-range tactical sphere." Her scans lead her through a corridor, indicating the nearby presence of a partially shielded terminal, glowing a foggy green. "There is still power running through this junction."

"See if you can download anything that'll tell us what happened here. Harry, keep her company," Chakotay said before he turned around to continue the investigation. "Tuvok and I will keep going this way. We'll rendezvous at this junction in 10 minutes."

"Be careful, Commander." Seven said with a worried expression. Her and Chakotay had become very close recently. But as a subordinate it would be inappropriate to publically display affection, even when the chance suddenly increased that one may possibly never see the other again. She caught his amiable glimpse before the moment passed.

"See you soon," he gazed upon her with a vaunted brilliance before confidently resuming the mission with Tuvok at his side.

They ventured deeper into the center of the large sphere fragment, encountering dismembered Borg corpses still kicking with a computed instinct. Small fires and fallen bulkheads made the difficulty surge. Impassable corridors impeded the efficiency of their investigation, causing Chakotay to gain more anxiety with every added minute. Clouded sections remained dark and unpowered while some flashed emerald light at random intervals. Along the way Tuvok had discovered that although the ship was in a million pieces, the Borg pilings were autonomously reconnecting damaged circuits, regenerating pathways.

They came across a pitch-black hallway as Tuvok's tricorder caught his attention. He analyzed the mysterious section, interpreting very complex data. "Curious."

Chakotay rotated toward Tuvok. "Got something?"

"I'm detecting dense concentrations of chronometric particles, 22 meters down this section."

They directed their lights down the foreboding corridor, illuminating only a tiny fraction of it. "Let's have a look," Chakotay said, leading the way.

Ablative metal fragments and hanging bio-tubes cluttered their path. Intermittent electric zaps lit the murky interior like a lightning storm. Several left and right turns and 22 meters later they came across the source of the particles, suspended inside a reinforced containment chamber. A spherical object, no more than a human hand-width in diameter rotated fleetly on an unpredictable axis. It gave their tricorders some very strange readings.

"My scans can't make heads or tails of this thing," Chakotay said, still analyzing his results.

"I am getting equally inconclusive readings. It appears to consist of several unidentifiable isotopes." Tuvok visually examined the chamber, and then returned to his scanner. "However, the flood of chronometric energy is forming a temporal rift within this section."

Chakotay thought maybe this was a cloaking device of some sort, but realized that the Borg have never implemented cloaking technology in the past. Why would they? He thought. This must have been something completely different. He decided curiosity didn't outweigh the risk of staying there. It was time to get back to the others. "Alright, take one last scan, and let's get out of here."

Seven alternated between her tricorder and the Borg interface, reconstructing fragmented data-blocks into translatable LCARS unicode. She verbalized her first conclusion to Harry, who was innocuously examining the surrounding area. "The interlink core of this ship utilizes technology assimilated while I was still in the collective."

"What do you mean by that?" Harry said with attention slightly diverted by his scans.

"It means this ship did not originate in the time period that Anshar claimed."

"Maybe they traveled to the past and then back to this time. You once told me that the Borg traveled back in time and tried to stop Zephram Cochran's first warp flight."

"It is possible."

She rummaged through a few more gigaquads of data, drone manifests, maintenance logs, tactical updates, until she uncovered encrypted data. Using some unconventional decryption algorithms that she'd learned over the years, she quickly decoded the data. It was information in regards to some kind of new propulsion method, using controlled chronometric particle emissions. With limited time, she began downloading the massive database, knowing she would be able to examine it later. Half way through the download she realized that 10 minutes had passed. Chakotay and Tuvok hadn't returned, and she began to let uncertainty turn into apprehension.

The broken ship suddenly rocked and rumbled, violently shaking all around them. The ground had caused Harry to stumble off balance and land within kissing range of a fallen drone. "What's happening, Seven?" Harry said with a trembling voice as small debris fell, stinging them like bees.

Seven reacted sharply, frantically punching her tricorder, unable to believe the results of the quick scan. "A temporal rift is causing rapid geologic instability on this planet. We must evacuate immediately." Finally letting worry get the best of her, she slapped her communicator, "Seven of Nine to Chakotay."

No response.

"Seven of Nine to Chakotay, respond."

Long moments passed as the earthquakes intensified.

Harry began to suppress his panic. After regaining his footing, he made his own attempt at communication. "Kim to Chakotay, do you read me?"

"Right behind you, Harry." Chakotay said, stumbling closer at an invigorated rate with Tuvok racing behind him. "Sorry I'm late," he said to Seven, noticing her indulgently relieved expression. "I think it's about time to get out of this bucket. Chakotay to Voyager, four to beam out."

They waited a moment while they realized Voyager wasn't going to respond to his hail. He tried again and once more, yet received nothing but silence.

Still with his tricorder in hand, Tuvok made a suggestion. "The temporal rift is apparently blocking our transmissions. Perhaps we should find a way to the surface."

"Agreed, let's go!" Chakotay exclaimed, promptly leading them away. He grabbed Seven's arm and wrapped it around him, making sure she stood on her feet, and crutched her to the front.

B'Elanna was manning Harry's station in his absense. With Voyager's sophisticated sensors at her disposal, she quickly took notice of the desperate situation happening. "Captain, I'm picking up some intense seismic activity on the planets' surface not far from where we beamed the away team."

Janeway perked from the Captain's chair as her heart dropped at the news. "On screen."

The monitor displayed a tiny chasm expanding from under the Borg wreckage. Lava began to flow from it, bubbling outward to envelope the surrounding sand dunes as some of the ship fragments tumbled down the expanding fissure. Janeway stood up and snapped toward ops, "Beam them back, now!"

Few agonizing seconds passed. B'Elanna responded in a regretful tone, "I'm having trouble getting a lock on them, Captain." She swiftly reset the pattern buffers, took all the available power from the impulse engines and dumped it directly into the annular confinement beam. "I'm going to try it again." Professional taps on the console with no time to think made B'Elanna the best person for the job. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't lock on to their signals. "They aren't close enough to the edge for me to get a lock on them. We'll have to wait until they get closer."

Tactical had sounded alarms, beeping repeatedly until the relief tactical officer reported with a nervous inflection, "Captain, I'm detecting, four transwarp signatures, bearing 154-082, about 3 million kilometers from the port stern."

"That makes things interesting," Tom smirked with sarcasm.

Janeway quickly sighed, wishing she had more time to dwell on the decision to come here. "Interesting isn't the word I'd use," she said trying not to chasten the helmsman. She returned to the Captain's chair, reluctant to leave the system, reluctant to stay. But she remembered that no one, not even the Borg, could bully her around. "Battle stations." Janeway issued the order, and instantly over a hundred crewmembers steadily prepared for a devastating Borg attack.

The battle-ready crew manned their stations. Tactical had already begun to rotate shield harmonics. Security officers emptied weapons lockers, grabbing as many type-3 phasers as they could, and reconfigured them to hold off a potential boarding party.

As Janeway keyed and analyzed scenarios on her tactical display, Anshar stepped from the turbolift and onto the bridge with a more stable stride, heading toward B'Elanna. He pushed her aside ungraciously, and swiftly plunged his new assimilation tubules inside the Operations station. The Doctor had followed him all the way from the Cargo Bay, certain that Anshar was only trying to help.

"Doctor, what's he doing?" Janeway noticed Anshar's stone face glowed with a green hue, his eyes had turned a likewise color. The implants protruding from his body had finished repairing themselves, and he looked more like a Borg drone than his old self. Power from the ops console fluctuated as Anshar began inputting new data. The Doctor attempted to reassure the bridge crew with a calm demeanor and posture, not knowing the situation.

"He stormed out of the Cargo Bay a few minutes ago. He said he had to save Seven. Is the away team in danger?"

"We're all in danger at this point," B'Elanna said, resenting Anshar's very rude intrusion of her station, yet stood patiently behind him with her arms crossed in front of her.

The Borg opened fire. Four Borg Cubes targeted Voyager's engines. Tom initiated a set of evasive maneuvers which caused the Borg disrupters to be absorbed on a reinforced section of shields, but still powerful enough to bring them down to 80%.

Tom sat experienced at the helm, hastily composing a symphony of vector calculations on his console, "Initiating evasive pattern Gamma 7."

The ship thundered against the impact of the Borg weaponry, sending sparks flying across the bridge as crewman were fiercely jostled at their stations. Coolant began spewing out from a shattered conduit. The Borg were closing in.

"Shields down to 28%," the tactical officer stated after the last volley.

"They're coming around for another pass, Captain. I can't shake them off." Tom's face became red in anticipation of capture.

"Get us out of here Tom, maximum warp." Janeway commanded as she tightly braced herself.

The Doctor objected, obviously with a different strategy. "What about the away team? We can't leave them down there!"

"Just do it!" The Captain reiterated, noting the Doctor's objections in her mind.

Tom set a random course and attempted to initialize the warp field. But the console denied him access to that portion of helm control. "I, I can't. My commands aren't going through."

The bridge grew dark suddenly before emergency lights illuminated, as if Voyager had completely lost power. B'Elanna stood over Anshar's shoulder, observing him as the assimilation tubules operated the console at a superhuman speed. "Captain, he's rerouting power from all systems to deflector control, including life support."

The Captain deliberated with herself before giving her next order, remembering to trust her instincts, to trust the alien. She walked quickly to ops and poised herself in front of Anshar. "What are you doing, Anshar?"

"Standby. Do not interfere," He said monotonously.

She diplomatically said in a peaceful voice, "Anshar, we need life support. We'll all perish without it."

He continued in his computerized tone without any hint of emotion, "Trust, Janeway. Voyager will not be damaged. Seven of Nine will not be damaged."

The three surrounding him took a step back as a low-pitched hum emanated from all sides of the ship. The deflector dish powered to enormous amounts, emitting extremely brilliant white light. A flash of highly energetic particles exploded spherically outward from Voyager in all directions. These particles smashed against the nearby Borg vessels, causing an amazing amount of damage to them. Tiny explosions inside the cubes could be seen on the viewer.

The bridge crew stood in shock. Anshar removed his tubules, returning control of the ops station to B'Elanna, while her jaw dropped from her observations.

"Captain," B'Elanna said, noticeably confused. "I don't know how he did it, but all the Borg cubes have been disabled." The console revealed another astounding fact. "And somehow he beamed the away team back on the ship. They're in Transporter Room 1."

"Doctor, go see if they're okay." Janeway ordered. He exited the bridge, smiling heavily at Anshar.

All the crewman on the bridge aimed their eyes at the heroic alien, who stood motionless beside B'Elanna, and then reared his head up at her as she spoke to him.

"Glad you're on our side." She said, clearly impressed.

Tom spun around in his chair back toward his station as it beeped with new information. "Don't start the party yet, this planet in front of us is becoming very unstable."

The tiny chasm had exponentially grown planet-wide. Numerous red cracks all over the surface began to collapse under the weight of the massive rock.

"Can you get us out of here, now?" A simper accompanied her question.

"Affirmative Captain, engaging at maximum warp." Voyager jumped at high warp, as the view screen remained on the planet. They watched as it exploded, barely outrunning the shockwave.


	6. Past Reprisals

* Disclaimer. I don't own Star Trek. Although how cool would that be? This is just something I do for fun and not for money. Okay now that's out of the way, on to the nerdy stuff. *

The away team had been escorted to Sickbay by the Doctor with minor cuts and abrasions, nothing too serious. He treated their wounds and discharged them shortly thereafter. Anshar watched like a statue as the Doctor performed his tasks, acting more robotic than organic. It was a refreshing perspective for the Doctor. He enjoyed his company, most of the time, and noticed Anshar was starting to treat him with increasing approbation. Security officers around Sickbay were relieved, but red alert remained active in anticipation of Borg reinforcements.

Voyager held position about a light year from the explosion remnants. All of the sensor data that the away team brought back was analyzed. The Captain and the senior staff assembled together in the Briefing Room. The Doctor had been ordered to remain in Sickbay with Anshar, to determine the effects on him from Seven's nanoprobes.

Seven downloaded her collected data to the monitor while the rest were seating. On the screen appeared an image of the spherical object gathered from Tuvok and Chakotay's tricorders. She recognized the object, using the memory from the Hive mind and the Borg database she'd recovered to help with her presentation.

"That is the chroniton core. Very few Borg vessels are equipped with one of these. Rotating at certain frequencies inside a chroniton infused chamber, it is capable of altering the transwarp conduit to drop at a specified point in a temporal field. The violence from the crash had damaged the chamber, and the chroniton core began to destabilize. The temporal energy released began to sink to the planet's core, causing it to implode."

"And then explode." Harry hinted at a bit of trauma.

"Do you know why they crashed in the first place?" Tom wondered.

Seven inhaled deeply, hesitantly willing to share the bad news. She turned around back to the monitor, and changed it to a video playback. Paused at the beginning was a still image of a blue planet that looked remarkably similar to Earth. "This was the last recorded sensor data from the crashed Borg sphere." She pointed to a region on the grid, zooming in on a specific section, which redirected the staff's attention from the image of Earth. Anshar's ship was zoomed in brighter from the darkness. The computer initiated playback.

_"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile." The Borg opened fire upon the target's miniscule ship. A thick particle beam bounced off its hull, causing no damage. The Borg sphere began to rotate rapidly. A volley of disproportionally powerful warheads pummeled the tiny vessel. No damage._

_"Remodulate weapons. Adaptation in progress."_

_Anshar's ship glowed ever brighter, appearing to take in the surrounding energy in a maelstrom of light-beams, all focused inward toward the cigar shaped vessel. An unimaginably luminous energy beam began to shoot forward from the ship, encompassing the entire Borg sphere like an oversized flashlight. The beam intensified for three seconds, and then dissipated._

_"Structural integrity compromised. We must alter course."_

_The Borg ship powered its transwarp drive. Earth disappeared as the ship entered a transwarp conduit. But Anshar was in pursuit._

_"Gravimetric distortions detected. Unable to compensate. Conduit collapse imminent."_

_The transwarp tunnel flickered brightly in faster increments until it flashed out of existence. _

_The Borg dropped out of transwarp at an unstable velocity, traversing erratically through normal space. "Vessel no longer in pursuit. Proximity alert. Collision with planetoid in 17 seconds. Attempts to alter course failed. Initiating suborbital protocols."_

_The orange planet grew larger at horrifying speeds upon the Borg viewer. Fire enveloped the sphere only moments before impact._

The screen went black as playback ended, leaving the senior staff with little to say.

"Astrometric charts indicate this battle occurred over three centuries ago." Seven said after the senior staff had witnessed the destruction of a Borg vessel, apparently caused by the mysterious grey alien.

"That wasn't a battle, that was a slaughter," Tom said.

Janeway's stern expression connoted executive decisions jolting through her mind. She felt anxiety, apprehension and fear. The Borg were somehow caught back in time, a negligible amount of years before First Contact. Her developed intuition from the many encounters with the Borg was put to the test. She wanted answers, but struggled to infer the right questions to ask. It was obvious to her that Anshar possessed far superior technology than she had previously thought. She realized there was so much about Anshar that left her feeling a little too ignorant.

B'Elanna had been examining Seven's data on a padd provided to each of the senior officers. Her knowledge of temporal mechanics was almost comparable to Seven's, even the Captain had her fair share of paradoxical exercises in recent times. The interesting design of the chroniton-infused chamber had guided her to access a memory from years ago, soon after joining the Maquis. For her own benefits, she was conducting a simulation for detecting cloaked Cardassian ships using a tachyon detection grid, powered by a device that looked similar to the chamber housing the oscillating sphere. She remembered how tachyons had temporal properties, and that gave her an idea. "You said this chamber was infused with chronitons?"

"That is correct." Seven answered.

"If I can find the original resonance frequency of the chroniton emissions, I could probably figure out exactly what caused the Borg's conduit to destabilize." B'Elanna explained.

"That will be difficult without the original chamber."

"The schematic you downloaded should be all I need."

Janeway had heard enough. "You two get on it. Tom, set a course back to the planet remnants, warp 2."

Tom did some mental math, "At that speed we should be back there in three hours."

"That should be more than enough time for Seven and I to finish our analysis." B'Elanna affirmed.

"Tuvok," Janeway turned her attention toward her Chief of Security, "Work with Anshar, see if he can help increase the efficiency of our weapons against the Borg, since he seemed to have no trouble at all against them."

Before Tuvok could respond, Chakotay cut in. "Captain, I'd like to be the one to speak with Anshar."

Tuvok raised his Vulcan brow, surprised at the First Officer's request, but nonetheless yielded his authority quietly.

"Alright, Ambassador, have a report ready before we reach the planet remnants."

He nodded as Seven gazed upon him with curiosity.

Janeway looked around the Briefing Room, "If there is nothing further, dismissed."


End file.
